


You Make It Sound So Easy To Be Alive

by DeathBelle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College!AU, Depression, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:16:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathBelle/pseuds/DeathBelle
Summary: Sometimes death just seems easier.Semi Eita has struggled for a long time, and one night he decides that living just isn't worth it. Before he can take the plunge, he's interrupted by a strange man who introduces himself as Tendou Satori.Tendou is everything that Semi will never be; bright, vibrant, and so cheerful that it's almost menacing. Despite their differences, they develop a friendship that gradually blossoms into something more, and Semi finds something worth living for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Since I don't have enough OTPs already, let's add some TenSemi into the mix. 
> 
> I wanted to break this into two or three chapters, but I don't like the way it feels if it's not all together. So please enjoy this too-long oneshot.

The moonlight reflecting off of the river was beautiful.

Semi leaned on the railing that lined the bridge, the metal cool against his forearms. The sound of rushing water was soothing in his ears, like white noise. He closed his eyes and inhaled, expecting to catch a whiff of the river below. Instead all he smelled was exhaust fumes and the stench of industry, the inevitable scents of a large city. 

He released the breath on a sigh and stared down at the water again.

Streetlamps were planted at wide intervals across the bridge, but the one just behind Semi was burned out. He was haloed in shadow, no more than a phantom to the occasional car that drifted by. Traffic was sparse at three a.m.

He shifted his stance and gripped the railing. It was smooth against his palms, almost comforting. He angled his shoulders forward to peer at the river again. There had been an abundance of rain lately, and the water careened along with dangerous force. Just below him, a crag of rock jutted from the riverbed. The water crashed against it, throwing tiny tongues of foam. It was barely visible, and if a cloud happened to pass over the moon, Semi would be able to see nothing.

Maybe that would be easier. Falling into the darkness should be more comforting than seeing the point of impact.

He squeezed the railing too tightly, his bones grinding in protest.

He should be scared. He expected to be, at least a little. 

As he stared down at the crash of the river, he felt nothing.

Maybe it was because he was so familiar with death. He thought about it a lot. He would be doing something innocuous, like sitting through a lecture or walking along campus or picking up takeout, and it would just drift into his mind like a black, ragged specter. He’d thought about it so much that there was something appealing about it, something almost romantic about the idea.

People thought death was frightening, but Semi wasn’t scared.

No matter how scary it was, death was still easier. 

He leaned over the railing one more time. It was about waist-height. He would have no trouble leaping over it. One good jump would have him sailing over the edge. It would be quick, easy. 

Semi took another breath and noticed his throat was tight. He blinked and felt heat pooling behind his eyes. When he touched his fingers to the side of his face they came away wet.

It was strange that his body would have such a reaction when he felt completely numb.

The wind picked up, threading airy fingers through his hair. It caught the end of his scarf and sent it fluttering like a broken wing.

All at once the moonlight faded, and Semi looked up to find a stray cloud drifting along, concealing the bright swell of the moon.

He looked over the edge of the bridge, and though he still heard the rush of water, he saw nothing.

That seemed like a sign.

He took another breath and held it. His pulse hit a breakneck pace, stuttering along in his chest unevenly. He would have thought he was nervous, except when he felt around inside his mind for the emotion, he came up empty-handed.

He was as blank as usual, even while staring death in the face.

It didn’t matter. Nothing would matter, now.

He gripped the railing one last time and shifted forward. One of his feet left the ground as he prepared to launch a leg over the rail.

Then there was dark movement in the corner of his eye and he paused, his foot settling back down to the concrete.

Someone reclined on the rail next to him, elbows draped on the metal bar, head tilted as they observed Semi.

It was too dark here for Semi to see their face, but the vague shape of them looked male. 

He swallowed past the lump in his throat and said, “Can I help you?”

It came out sharp, as jagged as the rocks in the river.

“It’s kind of late to be out enjoying the view.” The voice was curved, as if spoken through a grin. “Not much of a view in the dark anyway.”

Semi squinted at the shadowed profile. He was a little put out, but this didn’t really change anything. He could still jump. This person wouldn’t be able to stop him. They wouldn’t _want_ to stop him.

He swallowed back whatever fragmented words had gathered in his throat and leaned over the rail again. He blinked down at the river, which had reformed in his vision. He tilted his head back and realized the moon had reemerged from behind the cloud.

“Ooh,” said the stranger. “You looked older in the dark. But you’re really just somewhere around twenty, right?”

Semi slid a glance at him.

It was a man who appeared to be about his height, but anything more than that was difficult to discern despite the moonlight. His face was in shadows, the darkness pooling in the dips of his eyes, broken only by the sharp glint of his stare.

Semi knew the man was smiling, although he couldn’t make out an expression.

“What are you doing here?” said Semi, because he could think of nothing else to say.

“I was going to ask you the same,” he said. “You answer first.”

Semi looked from him to the river and back again. His fingers were still hooked tightly over the rail. They were stiff and uncomfortable.

He pried his hands away and flexed his fingers at his sides. “I was taking a walk.”

“Me too!” said the man. “Let’s walk together. My name is Tendou Satori.”

He offered the title easily, without question or hesitation.

Semi knew he was supposed to do the same, but his name stuck to the roof of his mouth.

The man, Tendou Satori, waited for only a moment. Then he shrugged and said, “Okay, then. I’ll give you a name. Come on, Pretty Boy, let’s walk this way.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder and straightened out of his slouch.

Semi distantly realized that they weren’t the same height after all. Tendou was taller, and lankier. 

More pressing, however, was the nickname.

“What?” he said, confused. Unless Tendou had superhuman vision, he couldn’t see Semi well enough to even make out his facial features. Even if they’d been standing in broad daylight, Semi knew he wasn’t pretty. It was a stupid thing to say.

“There’s a nice coffee shop on the corner about three blocks this way,” said Tendou. “I’ll buy you something if you’ll walk with me.”

“Why?”

Tendou tilted his head. The moonlight reflected off of his hair. It was a dark shade; brown, probably. It was hard to tell in the lighting. “Because I want to talk to you, Pretty Boy.”

“Semi.” The name slipped through his lips accidentally.

“Semi,” said Tendou, wrapping the name in a softer voice. “Because I want to talk to you, Semi.”

“Why?”

“You seem interesting.”

“I’m not.” Semi looked away from him and leaned his forearms on the railing again. 

“I don’t believe you,” said Tendou, his voice singsong. “Come on, let’s go, Semi. Please?”

The _please_ made Semi look up again. It didn’t match the rest of Tendou’s voice. The last syllable sounded as if it had been dipped in crystal vulnerability, shattering as it left Tendou’s tongue.

Semi stood upright, and his hands slipped off of the rail.

“Okay, I guess,” he said. “If you’re buying.”

The moonlight reflected off of Tendou’s teeth, bared in a grin. “Of course, Pretty Boy Semi-Semi. Follow me!”

He started along the sidewalk that lined the bridge, north, the way Semi had come. Semi took a step after him, then paused to look over his shoulder at the river. The sound of it still gurgled in his ears. 

“Are you coming?” Tendou’s voice was louder than the river, and Semi turned toward it.

“Yeah,” he said, probably too quietly for Tendou to hear. 

He stepped away from the rail and started walking.

  
  


The moonlight had misled him about Tendou’s appearance. His hair wasn’t brown. It was red, falling in a ruffled mess around his ears and over his forehead. His face was very expressive, with a wide mouth and mobile brows and eyes that could have been considered a little too intense.

Tendou Satori was strange; Semi knew that even as they sat at a table in the empty coffeehouse.

“That double shot of espresso probably wasn’t a great idea,” said Tendou airily. “You’ll be awake all night.”

“It’s almost four in the morning,” said Semi flatly. He took a defiant sip of the drink, eyeing Tendou over the edge. “It’s safe to say I’m not going to be sleeping.”

Tendou tilted his head, fingers drumming against the side of his own cup. He’d ordered an iced coffee, though he didn’t appear intent on drinking it. He chewed on the straw more often than he used it for sipping.

“So you were just going to wander around in the dark all night?” said Tendou. “Don’t you have anything to do tomorrow?”

“I have class,” said Semi. He glanced down at the drink in his hand. “I wasn’t planning to go.”

He wasn’t planning to do anything tomorrow, because he hadn’t planned on actually having a tomorrow.

Tendou made a _tsk_ sound. “Don’t be a slacker, Pretty Boy. Someday you’ll get old and your looks will fade and your brain will be all you have left.”

Semi scowled at him. “You don’t have to make fun of me.”

Tendou blinked, owlishly. “Hmm?”

“I said don’t make fun of me.” Semi took another drink, and the coffee was still so warm that it almost burned his tongue. 

“I’m not.”

“You called me Pretty Boy.”

One of Tendou’s eyebrows lifted, slowly. “Sounds like a compliment to me, Semi-Semi.”

“Only to someone who’s actually pretty,” said Semi. Tendou’s mouth opened, like he was going to comment, and Semi spoke over him. “What’re you doing out this late, anyway?” 

Tendou closed his mouth, thought for a second, and then said, simply, “Insomnia.”

“I think wandering around the city isn’t going to help you sleep.”

“Nothing helps me sleep,” said Tendou. “That’s what insomnia means.”

Semi rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. It seemed likely that arguing with Tendou was largely pointless.

“Where do you go to school?” said Tendou. “You said you have class.”

Semi thought about withholding the information, but couldn’t think of a single good reason to do so. He answered, and Tendou perked up.

“Me too!” he said with a grin. “I study art.”

Semi could have made a snide comment about that, but chose not to. “Business,” he said, before Tendou could ask.

“Sounds boring.”

“You could say that.”

“What do you want to be?”

“A businessman, I guess,” said Semi with a shrug. “What else?”

Tendou tilted his head the other way. “Is that what you want to do, though?”

“What?”

“Do you want to be a businessman?” repeated Tendou.

Semi considered him. That wasn’t something that people usually asked. “Not really.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

Semi took another drink. “It seems like the thing to do. I’ll get a good job and make decent money.”

“Life isn’t all about money, Semi-Semi.”

“Will you stop calling me that?”

The answer was no. Tendou did not stop calling him that, nor did he stop peppering their conversation with sly slips of “Pretty Boy”. 

He didn’t say it in a mean way, but Semi still knew he was being made fun of. He tried not to get defensive. It didn’t really matter if this stranger made jokes at him, anyway.

“What are you doing this weekend?” said Tendou, when they’d been there for nearly an hour and a half. Their drinks had long run out, but neither had made a move to retrieve refills. 

Semi shrugged. He’d thought he wasn’t going to have another weekend.

“There’s a really cool show at this place downtown,” said Tendou. He leaned forward slightly, eyes bright. “You should go with me! It’ll be fun.”

Semi sat back a little, startled by the offer. “Why?”

“Because… it’ll be fun?”

“I mean why would you want me to go with you?”

Tendou’s brows pulled together as he considered Semi. “You’re interesting,” he said. “I like interesting.”

“I told you I’m not.”

“You’re wrong,” said Tendou breezily. “Give me your number. I’ll call you Friday and tell you where to meet me.”

“I didn’t say I want to go.”

“You didn’t say you don’t want to go, either.”

Semi scowled at him, but Tendou was unruffled. He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and then slid it across the table toward Semi. It was a new contact screen. Tendou had typed in the name as “Pretty Boy Semi”. 

Semi deleted the first part, leaving only his actual name. Then he tapped in his number below it.

Tendou whisked it from beneath him with a grin. He fiddled with the phone a little more, and Semi was certain that he was resetting the name again.

“Do you live on campus?” said Tendou.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll walk you back, then! Friends don’t let friends walk in the dark alone.”

Semi wasn’t sure when they’d become friends, but he didn’t argue as he and Tendou stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  
  
  
  
Semi could have gone back to the bridge at any time. He thought about it more than once, especially when it was dark and he was lying in bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. 

He thought about it, but Tendou said he’d call on Friday. If Semi wasn’t around to answer, Tendou would think he was being ignored.

The thought of that bothered Semi, though he didn’t know why.

He would wait until after the weekend, then. Putting it off a few extra days wasn’t going to kill him.

He almost smiled at the irony.

He expected to hear from Tendou on Friday. What he did not expect were the text messages that he started periodically receiving throughout the week.

They started at about noon on Wednesday, the day after he’d met Tendou. Semi had just left his accounting class when his phone buzzed. He assumed it was an email from the university. 

It took him a moment to realize who the unknown number must have been.

_Yo Semi Semi! Did you go to class today? I hope you did. Be responsible._

_I got us tickets to the show! You can pay me back in pizza later._

_Do you get a lunch break sometime soon? They have cheap chicken nuggets in the cafeteria. Come eat with me, Pretty Boy._

Semi stared at his phone, trying to absorb all of that information.

It was too much, and he just put his phone back in his pocket and kept walking.

Two minutes later it vibrated again. He almost ignored it, but curiosity got the best of him.

_Yes or no?_

_I need to know if I should save you a seat._

Semi scowled down at the phone, as if the heat of his stare could burn Tendou despite the distance. 

After a moment of thought, he replied with a simple, _yes_.

He turned and started back in the opposite direction, toward the cafeteria. 

At least Tendou would be easy to pick out of the crowd.

  
  
  
  
The show that Tendou referred to was a local band performing at a hole-in-the-wall bar. Neither Semi nor Tendou were old enough to drink, so they sat side-by-side in a booth, sipping on coke and munching on greasy bar food. The band wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t particularly good, either. Semi only half-listened to them, but Tendou seemed to be enjoying himself. He swayed back and forth with the music, eyes distant.

His hair was different tonight, as it had been when they’d met up for lunch a couple of days before. It was styled into a spiky mess, and Semi guessed that Tendou had emptied an entire tub of hair gel to make it stay that way. It made Tendou look even taller.

“How long does the show last?” asked Semi, when they’d been there for about an hour.

Tendou turned his head. His eyes were half-lidded, but his smile was as wide as ever. “Are you bored, Semi-Semi?”

“It was just a question.”

“Do you have something better to do?”

Semi had literally nothing to do, unless he wanted to think about his statistics homework, and he did not.

“No,” said Semi. He sat back against the booth and folded his arms, returning his focus to the band. They’d all stepped back except for the guitarist, who was beating out a soulful solo that wasn’t half bad.

“I can’t figure out if you’re always irritated,” said Tendou, “or if that’s just how your face is.”

Semi slid a scowl toward him.

Tendou’s grin widened. “Looks like that’s just how your face is.”

“Stop making fun of me.”

“I’m not,” said Tendou. He poked his index finger into Semi’s cheek. “It’s cute, Semi-Semi. Your grumpy face is cute.”

He swatted Tendou’s hand away. “Stop it.”

Tendou stopped, though he was still highly amused.

When the band finished their set, Tendou cheered loudly. Semi glared at him, but clapped along with the rest of the small audience.

They exited onto the sidewalk, and Semi expected them to return to campus. Instead Tendou hovered just outside the door and said, “Where do you want to go next?”

Semi raised a brow at him. “Next?”

“Well yeah, it’s still early. We should go get some real food. I know this cool place not far from here.”

Semi glanced at Tendou from the corner of his eye.

He couldn’t figure out what Tendou was doing. It was strange enough that Tendou had approached him on the bridge, and stranger still that he’d invited him to go to a show. Semi had thought that maybe the show was something Tendou wanted to attend, but didn’t want to go alone. Semi had assumed he was just a body to stave off solitude and he would be discarded when the event was over.

He wasn’t sure why Tendou still wanted to spend time with him.

“I guess that’s fine,” he said slowly. 

“Great, I’m starving,” said Tendou, even though they’d been snacking for the past hour. 

They started walking side-by-side. Semi felt something warm brush against his hand and looked down to see Tendou slide their fingers together.

Semi stared at their hands, and then tilted his head back to look up at Tendou. “What are you doing?”

“It’s dark,” said Tendou. He wasn’t looking at Semi. “It’s dangerous. We could get separated.”

“So you want to hold hands?” said Semi flatly.

“For safety,” said Tendou.

Semi sighed, but didn’t argue. He didn’t read too much into it. It was just Tendou being Tendou, and Semi had already learned that there was nothing logical about him. Besides, it wasn’t that bad. It had been a long time since he’d had any actual human contact. He supposed it must have been the last time he’d gone home to visit, about three months before. His mom had hugged him before he’d gotten back on the train to return to campus, murmuring a heartfelt _good luck_ in his ear. 

He glanced sideways at Tendou, to find that he was being watched.

“What?” he said, a little sharply.

“You have nice hands, Pretty Boy,” said Tendou. He swiped his thumb across the back of Semi’s knuckles. 

Semi looked away. His face felt a little warm, which was strange because the night was cool. “Shut up, Tendou.”

  
  
  
  
Semi thought he would go back to the bridge after the weekend was over, when Tendou was no longer expecting to hear from him.

It was more difficult to commit to that, however, when Tendou insisted that they make plans for the following weekend, too. 

“We can study together!” he said, full of that unique energy that he wore like a crown. “You seem smart.”

“That doesn’t mean I can help you with your art homework,” said Semi. “I suck at drawing.”

“I’ll teach you, then,” said Tendou. “You’ll be an artist in no time.”

That was how they ended up sprawled on the floor of Tendou’s room the following Friday night, surrounded by stray papers and textbooks. 

“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” said Tendou in a stage whisper. “Do you need help?”

“Yes, Tendou,” said Semi, exasperated. “Please help me with this complex statistics equation.”

Tendou took the paper out of his hands. Semi blinked up at him, surprised.

Tendou tilted his head and pursed his lips, thinking.

Tendou hadn’t gone through the effort of fixing his hair. It was falling at random, tickling his ears and catching in his eyelashes. He tossed his head to improve his vision and handed the paper back to Semi with a cheerful, “I have no idea. Good luck with that, Pretty Boy.”

Semi sighed and hunched over his textbook, looking for clues.

It was a moment before he realized Tendou was staring at him. By the time he looked up to check, Tendou had refocused on his own work. He was sketching some sort of landscape with a piece of charcoal. It stained the tips of his fingers gray. 

“Where’s that?” asked Semi, nodding at the scene.

“Nowhere in particular,” said Tendou. “Just mountains.”

Semi disregarded his own work in order to watch Tendou. He dragged the charcoal across the page in long, smooth strokes, shading curves and defining edges. He swiped a piece of hair out of his eyes and left a gray streak over his left eyebrow. It looked ridiculous.

Tendou glanced up at Semi, eyes wide. “Are you _smiling_ , Semi-Semi?”

Semi blinked at him. “No.”

Tendou’s teeth flashed. “You _were_ ,” he said, wielding the charcoal in Semi’s direction. “I saw you!”

“I was not.”

Tendou considered him, head tilted to one side. “That’s even better than your grumpy face,” he said, matter-of-fact. “I like when you look happy.”

Semi scowled down at his homework and pretended that he didn’t feel his face burning.

He thought he heard Tendou chuckle, but it was so soft that he couldn’t be sure.

The night ended without incident and Semi walked back to his dorm in silence. 

He thought about the gray streak on Tendou’s forehead, and how he’d felt a brief urge to wipe it away.

Tendou had already insisted that they have another study night the following week, and Semi had found no reason to argue.

He went home and went to bed, and didn’t think about the bridge.

  
  
  
  
When Semi had first started college, it had been a difficult adjustment.

His parents had chosen the university for him. It had been the same one that his father had graduated from, and his grandfather before him. It only made sense that Semi should do the same.

No one seemed concerned that none of Semi’s friends were attending the same university. At first, Semi wasn’t, either. He would make new friends. It wasn’t a big deal.

Somewhere along the way he’d forgotten that his high school friends were the same friends he’d made in grade school. They’d grown up together and had become friends by the means of circumstance and convenience. It was logical to become close to the people you were forced to spend a majority of your time with.

College was different. There were different faces in all of Semi’s classes, and none of them were friendly. He wasn’t a very social person by nature. Even in his old friend group he’d been the one to blend into the background, observing more than he participated. He had always been fine with that, and so had his friends.

It was difficult to make new ones when he was so reluctant to speak to anyone.

He’d tried once, when he’d been forced to pair up with someone in a first-year biology class. The guy’s name was Mori, and he’d seemed nice enough. They cooperated well on their project, and had scraped by with a high grade. Semi had thought that maybe a friendship would spring from the interaction. 

When he’d asked Mori if he wanted to hang out, Mori had said, blandly, “Are you flirting with me?”

Semi had laughed, because surely it was a joke. 

Mori hadn’t looked amused. He’d simply turned on his heel, walked away, and hadn’t spoken to Semi again for the rest of the semester.

After class that day, Semi had gone back to his dorm room and taken a long look at himself.

The only logical reason for Mori’s reaction was that he somehow knew Semi was gay, and was uncomfortable with it. Semi stared at himself in the mirror, taking in everything from his hairstyle to his clothes to his posture.

He didn’t think his appearance screamed _homosexual_ , but then again, he didn’t know exactly what that was supposed to look like. 

It had never been a problem in high school. 

He started dressing differently, taking note of what his fellow classmates usually wore. The change in his wardrobe didn’t lead to a change in his social life, because now he wouldn’t dare approach anyone. 

The only result was that he became much more self-conscious, and that added another heavy weight onto the pile of worries that were already collecting on his shoulders.

Semi didn’t think that spending so much time alone would affect him. It wasn’t a big deal, after all. He didn’t need anyone to be successful. He could go to class and come back to his room and do his homework, and then repeat the process the following day.

That was exactly what he did, and he didn’t need anyone else.

He didn’t need anyone else at all.

  
  
  
  
Semi had his first panic attack near the end of his first semester. Finals week was approaching. He’d spent hours studying, and still felt that none of the information was sticking in his brain. He had a paper due, and he’d accidentally deleted the last four pages and couldn’t figure out how to recover them. He’d been given a list of the classes he needed to take the following semester, and they sounded almost impossible. He hadn’t slept the night before, and he felt like he didn’t have enough time to complete everything, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to _do_.

The stress hit him like a bullet train. He ended up in the floor, hugging his knees against his chest and struggling to breathe. He’d never experienced a panic attack, so that made him panic even more because he didn’t know what was happening. His chest hurt and his lungs burned and he thought maybe he was dying.

Even after he managed to gulp down some air and his heart rate returned to normal, he still clung to that thought.

Obviously the panic attack hadn’t killed him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dying.

It wouldn’t be tomorrow, probably, or the next day. 

But he was going to die, eventually.

What was the point of doing all this, of suffering through anything, when the end result was going to be death anyway?

It didn’t matter what he did, because eventually he would die and all of the effort would be wasted. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, in the grand scheme of things. 

Everyone died. 

Everything would end.

His panic faded, and it was replaced with a dull, dark numbness. 

He retyped his paper and submitted it, then started studying for his finals again. He went about it with relative calmness. His chest ached, and it felt cold, almost, but it was fine. He didn’t care what he felt like. He wasn’t sure why he cared about anything, really. 

Semi got through his first semester and scored passing grades for all of his classes. His mother told him he did well, and that he should be proud.

Semi didn’t feel proud. He didn’t feel happy, or relieved, or anxious about the upcoming semester. He didn’t feel much of anything, really.

There was no point to feel anything, because it was all going to end. 

  
  
  
  
“Hey, Tendou?”

Tendou dragged his eyes away from his reading, using a finger to mark his place. “Yeah?”

Semi fiddled with the corner of his textbook, flipping the pages with his thumbnail. He was sitting on his bed with his back against the wall. Tendou was sprawled on the floor on his stomach, feet kicking back and forth in the air.

The weight of Tendou’s stare made Semi wish he hadn’t spoken.

“Do you, uh… do you ever think about… about dying?”

The question was clumsy and awkward and Semi winced at his own social ineptitude. He stared down at the book in his lap, waiting for Tendou to make a joke or laugh or come up with an excuse to leave.

But Tendou just looked thoughtful, tipping his head back to study the ceiling as he considered the question.

“I guess everyone has,” said Tendou. He crossed his ankles, bare feet flexing in the air. “What about it?”

Semi tried to sound less flustered when he answered. “I don’t know, just… Don’t you worry about it? Dying, I mean?”

“Not really.” Tendou shifted to the side and propped himself up on an elbow so he could see Semi better. He had to crane his neck a little to see over the edge of the bed. 

“Statistically speaking, I’m probably not going to die anytime soon. Even if I was going to die tomorrow, there’s no point worrying about it. I can’t do anything to stop it.”

Semi continued to frown down at the printed pages of his textbook. He hadn’t absorbed a single word of it in the past half hour. That was about how long it had taken him to work up the nerve to breach this conversation. “But it’s kind of… I don’t know, _scary_ , isn’t it? We die and then what? We’re just… _dead_.”

Tendou shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, “but maybe not. Maybe we’re reincarnated. Maybe there’s some kind of heaven waiting.” He sat upright and stretched, his spine popping. He rested his forearms on the edge of Semi’s bed and dropped his chin onto them, eyeing Semi with his head slightly tilted. “You know what I think happens?”

Semi looked at him, then quickly looked away again. “What?”

“I think we just kind of float around after,” he said. He raised a hand and wiggled his fingers in the air. “Our souls, I guess. But not in a bad way, in a peaceful way. I think maybe we get to keep our memories and stuff, so we know who we were and what we did. The good stuff, anyway. I think maybe we won’t have to remember the bad stuff, if we don’t want to.”

Semi felt a strange tug somewhere deep in his chest. He ignored it. “Why do you think that?”

Tendou shrugged again. “Just a theory. It’s better than thinking everything just ends, right? I don’t think that makes sense, anyway. There’s too much stuff that makes up a person,” he said, twirling a finger. “All that can’t just disappear into nothing. I think people are worth too much to just fade away.”

Semi swallowed and looked at his textbook again. His eyes wouldn’t focus on the words.

“Besides,” said Tendou, his voice a little lighter. “If it’s something like that waiting, then death isn’t scary at all. It just means we need to be happy while we’re alive, right? We need to make memories worth remembering later, when memories might be all we have. That’s why I decided to study art, even though my dad threatened to disown me. It makes me happy, so I should do it. Sometimes you should just do things that make you happy, Semi-Semi.”

Something warm unfurled in Semi’s chest. It was a little comforting but it also burned. He didn’t know what it was but he felt it expand, rising to clog his throat.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” said Tendou, suddenly springing to his feet. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

Semi said nothing. He was probably incapable of speaking. 

Tendou skipped out of the room and shut the door.

Semi took a breath, and it _hurt_.

He clutched at his chest and hunched over, his spine curving forward. For a moment he thought he was going to have another panic attack.

Then a sob choked its way out of his throat and he realized he was crying.

He hadn’t done it in so long that it was unfamiliar. He hadn’t _felt_ anything in so long that the sensation was foreign. Now an entire galaxy of emotion burst in his chest, spotted with stars of pain and regret and a tiny glimmer of hope.

Tendou’s theory about death was ridiculous. He’d just made it up on his own. There was nothing to support it, nothing to suggest that anything was waiting after death aside from simple nonexistence.

There was no reason for Semi to be reacting like this, and he knew it. 

Even so, another sob squeezed out of his throat and wet heat scalded his cheeks. He wiped the tears away with the back of his hand and tried to get himself under control.

Tendou was right about one thing, at least. If Semi was going to keep living there was no point to do it unless he was making memories that actually mattered. There was no point unless he was doing _something_ that made him happy.

Maybe that was his problem. He’d been solely focused on class and homework and grades and making his parents proud, that he hadn’t realized he wasn’t doing anything for himself. 

Semi didn’t even know what made him happy, because he hadn’t felt that way in such a long time.

“I’m back!” announced Tendou’s voice from beyond the door. 

Semi had just enough time to wipe at his eyes again and sit up straight before Tendou slipped back into the room. He returned to his position on the floor and scooped his book up again, not looking at Semi. 

Semi was grateful. He probably looked like a mess. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Tendou read through his textbook and Semi pretended to do the same. 

“When you’re finished with that,” said Tendou, pointing up toward Semi’s book, “I’m going to show you how to draw some stuff. If you want to.”

Semi felt another twist in his chest, this one a little less painful than the last.

Maybe there was something that made him happy, after all.

Maybe that something was sprawled in his bedroom floor, a tangle of long limbs and messy hair. 

“Sure,” said Semi. His voice creaked a little, as if he hadn’t used it in a while. “I want to.” 

  
  
  
  
It had been three weeks since Semi had even thought about the bridge.

He and Tendou had developed a routine. They had lunch together when their schedules allowed it, three times a week. They spent their weekends studying, or drawing, or walking aimlessly around campus.

On a Saturday night two weeks after the death conversation, they decided to go get dinner at the ramen restaurant a few blocks away from campus. The weather was getting warmer. Jackets weren’t strictly necessary, but Semi still wore one out of habit. 

They walked side-by-side, chatting about whatever random subject sprang into Tendou’s mind. Semi was listening, mostly, but his mind was drifting a little. He kept stealing sideways looks at Tendou, who swung his arms at his sides as he walked.

They were halfway to the restaurant when Semi found the courage to brush his hand against Tendou’s. The contact was fleeting, barely there. 

Tendou kept talking as if nothing had happened. He probably thought it was an accident.

With a silent huff, Semi reached out and took Tendou’s hand. He threaded their fingers together and kept his eyes fixed forward, ignoring the heat on his face and Tendou’s suddenly intent stare.

“It’s dark,” said Semi, remembering what Tendou had said to him a while back. “We might get separated.”

“For safety,” said Tendou in a voice of mock seriousness. His smile nearly split his face.

Semi let go before they entered the restaurant. He didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention. 

As soon as they left, though, he reached out again, and Tendou met him halfway.

They walked back to campus like that, hand-in-hand. They reached Tendou’s dorm building first, and Semi stumbled over his goodbye. He wanted to say something more, or ask Tendou what he was thinking, but he couldn’t get any of the words out. 

He left unsatisfied, and didn’t sleep well.

  
  
  
  
When Semi walked into his statistics class on Monday morning, he headed toward his usual spot in the back of the room. He stuttered to a stop when he realized someone was already in his seat.

He stared at them, confused.

It was a girl that he recognized only because he’s spent the last few weeks staring at the back of her head. She usually sat in the front of the classroom. 

Semi didn’t know why she’d relocated, but he didn’t like it. There was no assigned seating, but it was still unsettling to have someone disturb his routine.

He looked around for another seat, but he’d barely made it on time, and most of them were full. 

The only available spot seemed to be the one that the girl had vacated on the front row.

Semi thought about turning around and going back to his room. It would almost be worth missing a lecture to not have to sit in the front.

But it was halfway through the semester, and he was a little afraid that he would miss something important if he skipped.

Grudgingly he plodded to the front of the room. He kept his head down and hoped no one was looking at him. They probably weren’t. The professor still hadn’t arrived, so the lecture hall was awash with idle chatter. 

At least the empty seat was on the end of the front row. He would only have to sit beside one person.

“Excuse me,” he said, as quietly as he could manage while still being audible. “Is anyone sitting here?”

The guy glanced up at him. He looked like he might’ve been annoyed, but that also may have just been the set of his eyebrows. “Not currently,” he said.

“Uh, well do you mind if I do?”

He shrugged. “You can sit wherever you’d like.”

It wasn’t exactly a friendly greeting, but Semi hadn’t expected one. He shrugged his bag off of his shoulder and dropped it beside the vacant chair before sinking into it. He dug out his notebook and flipped to the end of last week’s notes. 

Semi slid a glance toward his neighbor’s notebook, then did a double take. He chanced a glance up at the guy, who was sitting with his back straight, eyes turned toward the front of the room.

“You already did the outline for the next chapter?” said Semi, eyeing the unfamiliar formulas neatly printed on the notebook pages.

The guy turned his head slightly to look at Semi. “Yes. I try to stay ahead.”

“So you actually understand all this?” said Semi. “All the advanced equations and stuff?”

“Yes. It isn’t difficult.”

Semi frowned and looked back down at his own notes. He’d been keeping up in class, but it was getting harder as the semester dragged on. He hadn’t looked at the next chapter, but if it was anything like his neighbor’s notes then it appeared things were about to get a lot more complicated.

“You look glum,” the guy said. “Are you having difficulties?”

Semi blinked up at him. “Oh, uh… I get most of it. As long as it doesn’t get much worse I’ll be fine.”

The guy’s stare didn’t waver. “It gets worse.”

Semi sighed. He wasn’t really surprised.

“I can help you,” the guy said, “if you would like.”

Semi just stared at him. 

The professor entered the room and the snippets of conversation tapered off. She approached the front of the room and started booting up her laptop so she could project their daily powerpoint.

“Are you serious?” Semi said, the response extremely belated.

“Of course. Why else would I offer?”

Semi narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out if he was somehow being made fun of. It didn’t seem that he was.

“I could use some help,” Semi said. That admission was strengthened when the first powerpoint slide filled up the drop-down screen at the front of the room, listing a lengthy, complicated equation that Semi couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“I’ll give you my contact information after class,” the guy said. He clicked his pen and poised himself to take notes.

He seemed sincere. Semi couldn’t believe it had been that easy.

“I’m Semi,” he said. “Semi Eita.”

“Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

  
  
  
  
Ushijima was a creature of limited humor and focused stoicism. He was different than any of the friends that Semi had ever had, and yet he gradually found himself referring to Ushijima as just that. 

He sat next to Ushijima in class for the rest of the week, and met up with him over lunch for brief study sessions. It became part of Semi’s routine, and he found himself looking forward to it.

One day Tendou’s class ended early and he met up with Semi and Ushijima at the library just as they were finishing up a recap of that day’s lecture. Semi was concerned that Tendou and Ushijima would be at odds, considering their conflicting personalities. They were the only two friends he had, and he hated to lose one of them.

It was obvious which one he would sacrifice, though, and if it came down to that he would do it without hesitation.

But they got along surprisingly well. Tendou thought Ushijima’s mannerisms were hilarious, and Ushijima seemed to have a high tolerance for Tendou’s brand of strangeness.

It worked, somehow, and Semi was relieved.

When they left the library Ushijima went his own way, and Semi and Tendou walked together toward the dorms.

“Semi-Semi made a new friend,” said Tendou, singsong. He was grinning, as usual. “A smart one, too. That’s good, since I’m no help with statistics.”

Semi shrugged. “Drawing with you is more fun than statistics, anyway.”

Tendou’s smile softened around the edges. “Ushiwaka seems nice,” he said. “Weird, but nice. Do you like him?”

“Yeah, he seems like a good guy.”

“Does he hold your hand at night,” said Tendou, “for safety?”

Semi looked up at him. Tendou’s face was innocent enough, but Semi felt there was something heavy behind the question. He wanted to think he knew what it was, but didn’t want to make assumptions. He couldn’t let himself make assumptions like that. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“I’ve never walked with him at night,” said Semi. “If I ever do I’m not letting him hold my hand, though. He’s not my type.”

Tendou seemed pleased by the response. “So what is your type, Pretty Boy?”

Semi wanted to say something clever, something that would allow Tendou to know exactly who he was thinking of.

But he couldn’t get the words out, and instead changed the subject.

He berated himself for the missed opportunity for the rest of the night.

  
  
  
  
Semi and Tendou still had weekly study sessions in their dorm rooms, but now they occasionally ventured to the library to do homework with Ushijima. On a Thursday evening they spent about an hour on actual work before Tendou insisted he was going to teach Ushijima to do a few simple doodles.

Ushijima was even more hopeless than Semi. Tendou laughed until he couldn’t breathe, but Ushijima wasn’t offended. He simply frowned down at his failed attempt to sketch out a cluster of trees. “You’re skilled at this,” he said, looking to the example that Tendou had drawn for him. 

“It was a good effort, Wakatoshi,” said Tendou, stifling his laughter enough to speak. “You’ll get there.”

Semi glanced at Ushijima, wondering if he would be offended by Tendou’s use of his given name. They’d only met a few times. It seemed a little soon to be so personal. Ushijima didn’t seem to notice. “Thank you for the lesson,” he said. He tucked the disastrous drawing attempt into his notebook and then fitted that into his bag. “I must be going.”

“Thanks for your help, Ushijima,” said Semi.

“It was no problem,” said Ushijima as he slung his bag over his shoulder with ease. “I will see you later.”

They said their goodbyes and then it was only Semi and Tendou. Tendou started doodling in his notebook, both elbows on the table. Semi had completed his work but wasn’t really in a rush to leave. He scooted his chair closer to watch Tendou weave simple black lines into something much more complex. 

Semi wondered if Tendou would ever call him by his given name. Actually, he wasn’t certain that Tendou even knew his given name. He couldn’t remember telling him, but surely he knew anyway. 

Tendou hummed to himself, very quietly. Semi had noticed that he tended to do that when he drew, and he wondered if Tendou was even aware of the habit. Semi had never asked. He was afraid that drawing attention to it would make Tendou stop, and the gentle humming was somewhat soothing.

Tendou’s free hand was on the table, fingers occasionally drumming against the flat surface. His fingers were long and pale, and usually a little cold.

Semi didn’t give himself a chance to think. He reached out and smoothed his hand over the top of Tendou’s, letting it rest there.

Tendou went still, and his humming fizzled out.

He turned his head to look at Semi. For a moment his face was only bright surprise. They’d never held hands unless they were walking on the street at night, when there was a feeble excuse to explain away the behavior.

This was out of comfortable territory, and briefly Semi wondered if he’d crossed a line.

Then Tendou grinned and flipped his hand so he could lace their fingers together. He squeezed Semi’s hand, lightly, and resumed his scribbling.

He started humming again, and the tune was cheery.

  
  
  
  
Neither of them ever mentioned the hand-holding, but it started happening much more frequently. 

They would hold hands under the table during lunch, and when they were in their rooms studying, and when they sat on Tendou’s bed to watch episodes of whichever anime he’d developed a new obsession with.

Semi told himself it didn’t mean anything, because maybe to Tendou it didn’t. But it did mean something to Semi. The feeling of Tendou’s hand in his made Semi want to touch him more.

He hoped Tendou would drop a hint that he wanted something more than holding hands. He kept waiting for Tendou to say something or do something or even look at him a certain way, anything that would let Semi know that Tendou wanted the same thing.

But Tendou just acted like his usual self, and Semi couldn’t even guess what was going on in Tendou’s head.

He wanted to talk about it. He _needed_ to talk about it. But he was afraid, not only of rejection, but of losing Tendou’s friendship. Tendou was the best friend Semi had ever had. Semi was friends with Ushijima, and maybe he could expand his social circle now that he was a little more confident about speaking to other people, but all of that would be pointless if he lost Tendou.

Still, after every study session or movie night or dinner, the urge to get closer to him grew a little stronger.

Semi knew he was going to break eventually, and he was terrified of the potential consequences.

He didn’t even know if Tendou was into guys. He clearly wasn’t uncomfortable holding Semi’s hand, which was a reason to be optimistic, but that didn’t mean that he was attracted to men. He’d given no indication that he was attracted to women, either. 

Once when they were at a café, Semi had pointed out a girl and mentioned that she was pretty. Tendou had looked at her, shrugged, and jumped back into their previous conversation as if Semi hadn’t said anything.

Semi should have just asked, but the reason for the question would have been obvious. Tendou must have known that Semi liked him. There was no way he couldn’t. Sometimes Semi would catch himself staring, and Tendou would just grin at him and carry on with whatever he was doing.

Semi had no idea what Tendou was thinking, and it was driving him crazy.

It was on one of their lazy Sunday afternoons, piled up on Tendou’s bed with some lame anime playing on his laptop, that Semi broke.

They were on the second episode, but Semi still had no idea what was happening. The scenes cut away to each other so quickly that he was having trouble keeping up with the storyline. Tendou didn’t seem to be having the same problem. His eyes were glued to the screen, focus unwavering. Semi thought Tendou had probably read the corresponding manga already. That was the only possible way he could be enjoying it.

Semi glanced down at their hands, which had been laced together since the first episode had started. They’d piled pillows against the wall and reclined against them, the laptop balanced on Tendou’s adjusted nightstand. They’d done this more times than Semi could count. It was routine, normal.

The difference was that Semi was hyperaware of even the slightest twitch of Tendou’s body. He was always conscious of Tendou, but that night it was worse than usual. When Tendou shifted his hips to find a more comfortable sitting position, Semi noticed. When Tendou scratched his ankle with his toes, or narrowed his eyes at the screen, or breathed a shade heavier than normal, Semi noticed.

It was maddening, and Semi felt his frustration getting the best of him.

With a huff, he worked his hand free of Tendou’s and crossed his arms over his chest. Tendou glanced at him, but withdrew his hand without comment.

That frustrated Semi even more.

He sulked for a while, until the second episode bled into the third. Then he realized he was being stupid and reached for Tendou’s hand again. It was given willingly, and having Tendou’s fingers fitting into the spaces between his own was a small comfort.

With a sigh, Semi tipped to the side and rested his head against Tendou’s shoulder. Tendou stiffened beneath him, surprised by the contact. 

Semi waited to be pushed away, or for Tendou to recoil. He thought he wouldn’t even mind the rejection so much, because at least then he would know where the line was drawn in their relationship. As long as Tendou didn’t stop being his friend, he would be fine.

Tendou pulled away, both from the new contact and from Semi’s hand. Semi tried to quash the disappointment that churned in his stomach, hot and bitter. 

He moved to sit up straight again, but then Tendou’s long arm draped across his shoulders and pulled him back.

They were so close that their legs pressed together from knee to hip. Semi’s side was nestled against Tendou’s, and it would have been all too easy for him to nuzzle his face into Tendou’s chest. The arm around his shoulders was warm and sturdy, and Semi felt his cheeks flush. 

Tendou nudged Semi’s leg with his socked toes. “Something wrong, Semi-Semi?”

Semi shook his head, not quite trusting himself to speak without stuttering over his words. 

Tendou just grinned and returned his attention to the show.

Semi tried not to get his hopes up. He told himself that Tendou was just a physically affectionate individual. This didn’t mean he felt any particular way about Semi. This didn’t mean anything, except that Tendou’s warmth felt as good as Semi had thought it would.

Semi tilted his head back a little and looked up at Tendou. He was still watching his anime with a slight curve to his lips. Tendou always seemed to be happy. Semi didn’t really know what that was like. He wasn’t sad like he used to be, but he wasn’t always happy. Now his natural state was vague contentment. 

The light feeling of happiness was becoming more frequent, though. Semi felt it more often than he felt the black weight of sadness. All of those times, when he felt light and unburdened and happy, had one thing in common.

One thing, with wild red hair and a too-wide smile and expressive eyes that were such a strange shade of brown that they were almost garnet.

Tendou’s hair had been fixed that morning, but the passing hours were taking their toll. A piece had fallen in the front and tickled against Tendou’s forehead, threatening to fall into his eye.

Semi reached up, slowly, and brushed the lock of hair to the side. He lingered, fingers ghosting across Tendou’s forehead and over the curve of his temple.

Tendou looked at him, and Semi hurriedly dropped his hand.

Tendou caught it before he could withdraw, his long fingers circling Semi’s wrist. Without looking away from him, Tendou brought Semi’s hand up and pressed a light kiss against his knuckles.

Semi’s heart stuttered, then lurched into a manic rhythm. Tendou released him and his hand fell limply back to his side.

Tendou grinned at him from beneath half-lidded eyes. “What’s that look for, Pretty Boy?”

It wasn’t the invitation that Semi had been waiting for, but even so, he couldn’t stop himself.

He shifted forward and pressed his lips against Tendou’s smile. It was brief, and he pulled back almost immediately. His heart was still flying, but now it was from fear.

If Tendou rejected him, if he no longer wanted to friends…

Even as Semi pulled away Tendou chased him, seeking him out with his mouth. They kissed again, and Tendou’s fingers danced across Semi’s burning cheek. 

Tendou’s mouth was soft, his lips slightly curved. Semi melted into him. 

Their lips moved together like honey, smooth and sweet. 

Semi could barely breathe. He gripped onto Tendou’s shoulders to ground himself. They were lean but sturdy, warm beneath his palms.

This time it was Tendou who pulled away, but he didn’t go far. He was still close enough for Semi to taste his breath, hot and sweet on his lips.

Tendou’s eyes were lidded, but bright. He looked at Semi with laser intensity, his gaze dipping from Semi’s eyes to his mouth and back. One of his hands still cradled the side of Semi’s face, palm curved against Semi’s jaw. 

“Is this what you want, Eita?” said Tendou, quietly.

The sound of his name in Tendou’s voice stole Semi’s breath. He stared with his mouth slightly open, heart still fluttering wildly in his chest. 

He didn’t know exactly what Tendou meant. He didn’t know if “this” meant the kiss, or more, or just Tendou in general.

He didn’t know, and he didn’t much care. As long as Tendou kept kissing him, he would agree to nearly anything.

“Yes,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. 

Tendou smiled a little, gentle. Then he moved forward again, and Semi was lost to sensation.

He was on his back, and he didn’t know if he’d fallen that way or if Tendou had coaxed him down. It didn’t matter. Tendou was _everywhere_. They were pressed together from chest to hip to thigh, legs tangled somewhere below, just as Semi’s hands tangled in Tendou’s hair.

Tendou never stopped kissing him, and there was a slide of tongue against Semi’s lips. It was subtle, but still sent a jarring spike of heat zipping down Semi’s spine. He parted his lips and Tendou’s tongue slipped between them, rubbing against his own tongue, licking his mouth open wider.

He let Tendou take what he wanted, and tried to give back in return. He prodded at Tendou’s teeth with his own tongue, tasting, _wanting_. 

Tendou traced along Semi’s lips with his tongue. Then he sucked Semi’s lower lip into his mouth and rolled it gently between his teeth. 

Heat flared between Semi’s legs, and he had to actively keep himself from making an embarrassing sound.

Tendou let Semi’s lip pull free. Then he pushed himself up on his elbows, looking down with heat that Semi knew was reflected in his own eyes.

Tendou shifted his weight to one elbow and brought a hand to Semi’s face. He traced a light path along Semi’s cheekbone, down to the corner of his lips, and along the line of his jaw. Semi’s eyes fluttered closed, but he forced them open again as Tendou spoke.

“We’re missing the show.”

Semi tried to glare, but he knew it was a watered down version of his usual scowl. “Sorry I distracted you.”

“I’m not.” Tendou grinned, and pressed a kiss to the corner of Semi’s mouth before pushing himself up to his knees. 

Semi grabbed at his wrist before he could retreat. “Wait,” he said. His voice was lower than usual, almost husky. “You don’t… we don’t have to stop.”

Tendou swallowed. Semi watched the way his throat moved.

“No,” said Tendou. The word was a little hoarse, and Semi was glad he wasn’t the only one affected. “We don’t have to stop, but I don’t want you to do something you’re going to regret in the morning.”

He pulled back and Semi let him go. 

Semi sat up as Tendou adjusted the pillows and sat back against the wall, facing the laptop. 

Semi tried to collect himself; his heart was still beating too quickly, and he was too hot in uncomfortable places. When he felt he had his breath under control, at least, he said, “I won’t regret it. Not with you, Tendou.”

Tendou blinked up at him, then grinned, slowly. “Are you saying you like me, Semi-Semi?”

“Shut up. You know I do.”

Tendou extended a hand. “Come here.”

A hot thrill blossomed in Semi’s stomach. He crawled forward, expecting to pick up where they’d left off.

Instead Tendou yanked him forward and maneuvered him so that Semi’s back was pressed against Tendou’s chest, Tendou’s legs wide on either side of him. Tendou wrapped his arms around Semi and he leaned back, his head resting on Tendou’s shoulder.

“It’s not going to hurt to wait,” said Tendou. His voice was a low murmur in Semi’s ear, and it made him shudder. “I want you to be sure.”

Semi was sure. He was desperately sure, and the discomfort in his jeans could attest to that. “Tendou, I-”

“Shh.” Tendou raised a finger to shush him. 

Semi thought about biting it.

“Do you think you’ll stop liking me anytime soon?” asked Tendou.

“Stop asking stupid questions.”

“Then we have all the time in the world, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou. He wrapped his arms tighter, squeezing Semi in a long-limbed embrace. 

Semi sighed, but relented. There was no point arguing with him; not just about this, but about anything.

“Fine,” said Semi, sinking further into Tendou. “If you don’t want to.”

Tendou’s breath was hot against his ear. “Don’t think for a second that I don’t want to.”

A shiver crawled down Semi’s spine, and he bit his lip to keep from saying something stupid.

They started watching Tendou’s anime again, but Semi was more focused on the feeling of Tendou wrapped around him than the show. 

When the fourth episode ended, Tendou craned his neck and pressed his lips against Semi’s temple. “You’re a good kisser, Pretty Boy.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“I will,” said Tendou, “as soon as it stops being true.”

Semi felt his flush burn all the way down the back of his neck.

  
  
  
  
“C’mon, Semi-Semi, just real quick,” said Tendou. He leaned into Semi’s side and slid his notebook on top of Semi’s textbook, blocking his reading. 

“I don’t want to,” said Semi. He shoved the notebook away. “I’m trying to read.”

“It’ll only take a second.”

“You know I can’t draw that,” said Semi, sliding a scowl toward him. “You just want to make fun of me.”

“Not true!” Tendou slapped a hand over his heart, as if he’d been wounded. “I would never! I just want it as a comparison, so when Wakatoshi tries to do it I can make fun of _him_. He’s way worse than you, Semi-Semi.”

Semi snorted. “I don’t know why Ushijima still studies with us.”

“He likes us,” said Tendou with certainty. “Well, he probably likes me, but he definitely likes you.” Tendou leaned closer and propped his chin in his hand to view Semi better. He reached out, long fingers threading through Semi’s hair. “Who wouldn’t, though?”

Semi leaned into the touch. He turned his head to give a comeback, probably something with a healthy dose of sarcasm, but then he realized how close Tendou actually was. They were only a breath away. His eyes dropped to Tendou’s curved smile. He started leaning forward, lips tingling in anticipation.

Someone cleared their throat directly in front of the table.

Semi sprang back from Tendou, his spine protesting as it hit the back of his chair. 

Ushijima stood across from them, his face as stoic as usual. “Should I come back later?”

“No, come join us, Waka!” said Tendou, unruffled. “You look dapper today.”

Ushijima took a seat. He flipped through his bag to extract his textbooks, acting as though he’d seen nothing.

But there was no way he hadn’t seen it. Everyone on that floor of the library had probably seen it. Semi had been so caught up in Tendou that he hadn’t been thinking clearly. “I’m sorry,” he said, the apology reflexive.

Ushijima looked up at him, brows low. “For what?”

Semi glanced quickly at Tendou, who was grinning. “For, umm… we… Doesn’t it bother you?”

Ushijima looked between them, gradually realizing what he meant. “Oh. Why would it bother me? I already assumed the two of you were together.”

Semi relaxed beneath a cool wash of relief. 

“I brought crayons, Waka,” said Tendou, leaning conspiratorially over the table. “When you’re finished studying I want to color.”

Ushijima didn’t look eager, but he didn’t look annoyed, either. “If we must.”

Tendou went back to his drawing, satisfied. Semi and Ushijima discussed statistics, and Semi felt a little lighter than he had in a while.

“You’re smiling again,” said Tendou, leaning to whisper it in his ear.

Semi felt the curve of his own lips, but couldn’t stop. “Shut up, Tendou.” 

Tendou just grinned. 

  
  
  
  
Finals week was a little stressful, but they got through it. In fact, Semi’s grades were significantly better than they’d been the semester before, despite that his classes had slightly increased in difficulty. He attributed his success to all of his study sessions with Ushijima and Tendou.

He probably would have done even better if the studying sessions in Tendou’s dorm didn’t typically turn into makeout sessions before the first hour was up, but he wouldn’t have changed that, even for a better grade.

After finals there was a two week break before the next semester began. Semi would have been content spending it on campus, but since Tendou had already been commanded to return home, Semi figured he would go visit his parents, as well.

It would be the longest he’d gone without seeing Tendou since they met, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

His parents were glad to see him, though, and there was something satisfying about coming home. His mother bragged about his grades and his father said he was proud and Semi couldn’t help but feel a little pleased.

Tendou texted him daily, a steady stream of nonsense that detailed his own trip home. Even Ushijima was in touch, occasionally inquiring about Semi’s break. 

Semi thought this must really be what it felt like to be happy.

He sat at the kitchen table as his mom made lunch, reading Tendou’s latest narrative. Apparently Tendou had unearthed an old stack of manga that he hadn’t seen since his early years of high school. Judging from the number of exclamation marks that he’d used in his texts, Tendou was thrilled.

“What’s funny, dear?” asked his mom, pausing just long enough to ruffle Semi’s hair.

Semi flattened it back down absently. “Huh?”

“You’re smiling at your phone,” she said. 

Semi looked down at the screen, where he’d been typing out a response. He put it down and tried to arrange his face back into something more neutral. “I’m just talking to Tendou.”

“Is that one of your new friends?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

Semi thought of a hundred adjectives to describe Tendou, none of which he could say to his mother without sounding awkward.

“He’s… kind of weird,” said Semi. It was true enough, but he instantly regretted saying it. “But not bad weird, like… like in a good way. He’s always in a good mood, and he’s fun… even if he’s kind of embarrassing, sometimes.” He was thinking of the day in the library, but that was just as much Semi’s fault as it was Tendou’s.

Without warning his mind flashed back to the bridge, when he’d met Tendou for the first time. The memory almost stole his breath; he hadn’t thought of the bridge in months.

He couldn’t believe he’d really been about to jump. 

“Eita?” 

Semi blinked his way out of his own head and looked up at his mother, who’d stopped cooking. 

“Are you alright?” she said. “You have a strange look.”

“I’m fine,” he said. It sounded like a weak excuse, but it was true. He was fine, now. “I was just… thinking.”

“About your friend Tendou?”

Semi stared down at the blank screen of his phone and tried not to blush. “Sort of.”

“He must be a good friend.”

“Yeah, he is.”

She considered him, brow creased. “Is he only a friend, Eita?”

Semi snapped his head back up to look at her, his heart stalling in his chest. “What?”

His mother smiled, her face soft. “It sounds like you’re pretty attached to him. I’m glad for it. You’re happier now than you’ve been since high school. I was starting to worry about you, Eita.”

Semi swallowed past the lump in his throat. “You think Tendou and I are…?”

“Am I wrong?”

Semi opened his mouth to say _yes, of course you’re wrong_. The gentleness of his mother’s smile made the lie dry up on his tongue. “We… we, uh… You’re not mad?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’ve raised you for nearly twenty years, Eita. Don’t you think I’ve realized by now that you don’t like girls?”

Semi’s face burned hot, all the way to his ears.

“It’s fine, dear,” she said, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “I just want you to be happy. I don’t mind if you have a boyfriend, as long as he makes you happy.”

Semi felt that hot twist in his chest again, and this time he expected the tears before they burned his eyes.

“Oh, Eita,” said his mom, bending to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “Surely you didn’t think I’d be disappointed.”

Disappointed wasn’t a strong enough word; disgusted was more accurate.

He leaned into her embrace and swallowed down his sobs. “But… dad?”

She sighed, and it ruffled the hair over his ear. “He only notices what he wants to. I won’t tell him until you’re ready. He’ll be surprised, I think, but he’ll still love you, Eita. You know we’ll both love you, no matter what.”

Semi thought he probably should have felt pathetic crying on his mother’s shoulder, but he didn’t.

He just felt relieved.

  
  
  
  
Later, when he’d stitched his emotions back together and finished his lunch, he returned to his room and flopped down on his bed. 

He typed a quick text to Tendou, one that made his stomach flip with nerves as he sent it. 

His mother had called Tendou his boyfriend. Semi thought that he probably was, but they’d never talked about it. He’d never referred to him that way, aloud or in his head.

He thought it would probably take time before Tendou replied, considering he was likely neck-deep in his old manga stories.

It was less than a minute later when he received a reply message from Tendou.

_Well I hope I’m your boyfriend. If not, I’m going to be kind of disappointed._

Semi rolled over and buried his face in his pillow to hide his smile.

  
  
  
  
Semi arrived back to campus with more optimism than he’d ever experienced in regards to school. His new classes started the following day, but for the first time, he wasn’t worried. 

He went to his room only long enough to drop off his travel bag. Then he was back outside, walking briskly toward Tendou’s dorm. 

As soon as Tendou opened the door Semi lunged at him, wrapping Tendou in a tight embrace. Tendou returned it immediately, looping his long arms around Semi’s shoulders.

“I missed you too, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou. 

“Shut up,” mumbled Semi, the words muffled in Tendou’s shoulder. He gripped the back of Tendou’s shirt and held him more tightly.

He’d lived nineteen years without Tendou Satori, but going two weeks without him had been more difficult than he’d thought.

He hoped he’d never have to go a single day without seeing him ever again.

Tendou snaked a hand between them, curled a finger beneath Semi’s chin, and tilted his head back to kiss him.

When they broke away, Semi pressed his face back into Tendou’s shoulder. “I told my mom about you,” he said quietly.

Tendou’s fingers crawled up the back of Semi’s neck to tangle in his hair. “Oh?”

“I showed her a picture. She said you’re cute.”

Tendou’s chest vibrated against Semi’s cheek as he chuckled. “I like your mom.”

“Yeah,” said Semi. “Me too.”

“I told my parents too,” said Tendou. His voice didn’t change, but Semi felt tension bristle along the planes of Tendou’s back. 

Semi straightened and looked up at him. 

Tendou shrugged in response to the unasked question. “They were on the verge of disowning me anyway,” he said. He smiled as if he was unaffected, but Semi saw the tightness in the expression. “They just needed a little nudge to do it properly.”

“Tendou, I-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” said Tendou, stealing the words out of his mouth. “I really don’t care. We’ve never been close. Anyway, I managed to snag a coloring book from my little sister before I left. It has farm animals. Wakatoshi is going to love it.”

Semi released his death grip on the back of Tendou’s shirt, pressed his palms against the sides of Tendou’s face, and did his best to kiss away the sadness that Tendou was trying to hide.

Tendou should never be sad. As happy as he made Semi, it wasn’t fair for him to experience sadness a single day in his life.

“Tendou?” he said quietly, when the kiss had drifted to a stop. “I… I think I might love you.”

Tendou tilted his head and smiled, and the heaviness he’d carried since mentioning his parents was gone. “Well let me know when you’re sure,” he teased.

Semi huffed, and kissed him again.

  
  
  
  
It wasn’t that night, or the next, or even a week later.

But sometime after that, Semi finally found himself stripped bare in Tendou’s bed, writhing beneath the awkward, foreign sensation of Tendou’s fingers moving inside him.

“Am I hurting you?” Tendou asked for perhaps the sixth time. “You look like I’m hurting you.”

“You’re not,” said Semi, for perhaps the sixth time. “It’s just weird.”

Tendou frowned down at him. He started to remove his fingers but Semi crunched forward and seized his wrist, preventing him.

“I told you we don’t have to do it this way,” said Tendou. “I don’t mind if we-”

“And I told you I want to do this,” snapped Semi, talking over him. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, Tendou. Stop worrying about it.”

They looked at each other for a handful of heartbeats, and Tendou finally grinned. “Okay then, Pretty Boy. Lay back and stop making that face.”

Semi scowled at him but fell back against the mattress. He flung one arm over his eyes so he could pretend Tendou wasn’t watching him so intently.

Tendou shifted between his legs and his fingers started moving again, slow and cautious as they stretched Semi open.

Semi bit his lip and willed himself to relax.

There was no reason to be tense. This felt a little weird, but considering how much time he’d spent around Tendou, he should be immune to weird.

Tendou pressed in another finger and the stretch burned, but Semi just bit his lip harder and said nothing. He didn’t want to give Tendou another reason to stop. 

Tendou stroked inside him, in and out, fingers flexing. Then he pushed in deeper and curled.

A jolt of electric heat made Semi jerk in surprise. He flung his arm away and sat half-up, eyes flying to Tendou’s face. 

Tendou’s grin had gained an edge of smugness. “What’s wrong, Semi-Semi?”

Semi ignored the rapid rise and fall of his own chest. “I-”

Tendou moved his fingers again, and the buzzing heat ricocheted the length of Semi’s spine. He made a choked sound that got caught in his throat, his hands clenching at the sheets on either side of him. 

“Are you doing that on purpose?” said Semi, breathless.

“It depends,” said Tendou. “Do you like it?”

Semi nodded and pretended his face wasn’t about to catch fire. 

Tendou did it again, and Semi fell back against the bed, hands over his face, lost in the grip of sensation.

After a moment Tendou said, “Do you want me to keep going? Or do you want me to…?”

“No, don’t,” said Semi. His voice was already wrecked. He cleared his throat before he spoke again, but it didn’t help. He thought if Tendou did that thing with his fingers one more time he was going to come. “I don’t… I mean, I want… Stop looking at me like that, Tendou.”

“I can’t help it,” grinned Tendou. His withdrew his fingers slowly, and Semi winced at the hollow feeling. “You look so good, Eita. How can I _not_ look at you?”

Semi turned his burning face away. Somehow hearing that was more embarrassing than being sprawled out like this, naked and vulnerable. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

“So crude,” said Tendou. He pressed a kiss to the inside of Semi’s thigh. “I didn’t know you were into dirty talk.”

“Shut up, Tendou.”

The banter ended quickly as Tendou reached for the condom that lay waiting on the nightstand, flanked by the bottle of lube that they’d already made good use of. Soon after, Tendou was inside him, and Semi forgot that he was supposed to be uncomfortable.

Tendou hovered over him, his arms planted on either side of Semi’s shoulders. Semi’s legs were wide to allow Tendou to nestle between them. Semi kept his eyes closed, because he just _knew_ that Tendou was staring at him. 

Tendou thrust in again, still slowly, and Semi bit down on the moan that pressed against the inside of his lips. He gripped Tendou’s shoulders, fingers digging into lean muscle.

“Semi?” said Tendou. His voice scraped lower than Semi had ever heard it. “Are you-”

“Yes, I’m fine,” said Semi. “I’m really fine. You don’t have to be that careful. I’m not going to break.”

“I want to be this careful,” said Tendou. He slid out and in again, smooth and gentle and slow. 

Semi felt the tickle of fingers against his face. He cracked his eyes open and found that he was right; Tendou was staring at him. It was a different expression than he’d expected, though. There was no smug grin or self-satisfaction. Tendou was smiling a little, but it was soft, no hard curves or sharp edges. His gaze was gentle too, studying Semi’s face as if it was the artwork that he spent hours admiring. 

Tendou bowed his head and pressed a kiss to Semi’s lips. It was as soft as his smile, a feather-light touch. 

Tendou kept moving against him with smooth rolls of his hips, and Semi let himself get lost in it.

When Tendou finally increased his pace, Semi forgot to make himself stay quiet. He came with Tendou’s name like a prayer on his lips.

Afterwards they laid beneath the sheets of Tendou’s bed, bare limbs intertwined. They’d done a poor job cleaning up, and Semi felt the tug of dried cum in the pale hairs on his stomach, but it was easy to forget. He was curled up against Tendou, his face pressed against a pale chest, a long arm wound around his shoulders. His own arm was draped across Tendou’s ribs, and their legs were twined together. 

He tilted his head back to look at Tendou, and his eyes caught on a paper that was taped up on the wall. It was a badly colored picture of a trio of horses. If Semi hadn’t already known that Ushijima had been the one to color it, he would’ve assumed it was the work of a kindergartner. 

He ducked his head back down as Tendou’s fingers traced nonsensical patterns against his shoulder, and Semi thought he’d never been so relaxed in his life.

Maybe that was why he couldn’t control the words that fell out of his mouth, words that he’d intentionally kept to himself since he and Tendou had met.

“Hey, Tendou?”

“Hmm?”

The hum vibrated against Semi’s cheek.

“You know that night we first met, out at the bridge?”

“Yeah.”

Semi closed his eyes and pressed his face more solidly against Tendou’s chest. “I was going to jump,” he said quietly. “I was about five seconds away from it.”

Tendou’s fingers stopped moving. His arm tightened around Semi, holding him closer. “I know.”

Warmth flared in Semi’s chest and he pushed it down. He didn’t want to cry now. Still, his voice sounded tight when he said, “You saved me.”

Tendou stroked his fingers through Semi’s hair and said nothing.

“Why were you even out there that late?” said Semi. At the time, Tendou had used insomnia as an excuse. Now, though, Semi knew it had been a lie. The only time Tendou lost sleep was when he stayed up too late watching his lame anime shows.

Tendou’s fingers stilled in Semi’s hair. “The same reason as you,” said Tendou. His voice was quieter than Semi had ever heard it. “I was going to jump, too.”

Semi went stiff. He pushed himself up on an elbow to look at Tendou, who smiled softly back.

“You saved me, too, Eita,” he said, reaching up to brush hair away from Semi’s forehead. “If we’d picked a different night we’d both be dead.”

The heat in Semi’s chest became unbearable. He ducked his head and sobbed against Tendou’s neck. Tendou held him, and Semi thought he felt warm tears against the side of his face that weren’t his own.

When he’d cried himself out, Semi said, hoarsely, “I love you, Tendou.”

Despite their tears, despite the knowledge that they’d almost thrown their lives away before they’d gotten the chance to meet, Tendou smiled. “Are you sure this time, Semi-Semi?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

Tendou’s lips were warm as he pressed a kiss against Semi’s temple. “I love you too, Eita. I’m always going to love you.”

Semi found that, despite the pain and heartache and despair that he’d endured before he met Tendou, he was grateful for the suffering. Because without it he would’ve never been at that bridge, and they never would have saved each another.

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to [ this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gEyQI7tmkG4) on repeat while writing this. If you're into music you should check it out! It does kind of have spoilers for the story, though, so I wouldn't listen until you've finished reading. 
> 
> If you noticed any mistakes, please point them out! I proofed this a few times but I still might've missed something.


End file.
